


The Damned

by Zycorax



Series: Ravarin the Ravaged [1]
Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Attempted Murder, Cult of the Damned - Freeform, Female Protagonist, Gen, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Revenge, Scarification, Scarlet Crusade, Third War (Warcraft), Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-12
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28026126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zycorax/pseuds/Zycorax
Series: Ravarin the Ravaged [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2052873
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	The Damned

The service was over and people started making their way out of the cathedral. Father Brennan was standing by the gate to the vestibule, giving everyone leaving an appreciative nod. Ravarin was at the very back of the slow moving line and when she reached the gate, Father Brennan turned his attention to her.

“Ravarin dear, could you come with me please. I have something I require your assistance with.”

“Of course, Father,” she replied. It was what she always replied. What everyone replied. When a holy man asked something of you, you agreed, no matter what it was. And Ravarin knew what it was. It was happening again, but this time she was prepared.

She followed Father Brennan outside and down to the abbey. Soon after they found themselves in his sleeping quarters and as per usual he started the long-winded process of undressing.

“Just wait on the bed, dear. I’ll be with you in a moment,” he said. Ravarin sat down and waited. She didn’t bother undressing, because she knew he enjoyed doing it himself. Instead she just sat there, waiting, with one hand clutching the handle under the choir dress. She tried to brace herself for what was about to come, but Father Brennan turned and approached all too soon. She wasn’t ready, but it was now or never.

She waited for the man to get closer. Close enough to gently take a hold of her shoulders and push her flat on the bed. He loomed over her, regarding his prey. Her untrained eyes saw an opening and moments later a drop of blood struck her cheek. Father Brennan snatched the arm wielding the knife and forced it against the mattress in a tight grip. He calmly brought his other hand up to his cheek. The blood smeared all over his palm. It wasn’t a deep cut, just enough to cause a mess of her choir dress, as the blood kept trickling down to Father Brennan’s chin and then fall down onto Ravarin.

“I see…” Father Brennan said, calm as ever. He stood up, dragging Ravarin with him by the collar of her dress. She dropped the knife in the process and he was quick to claim it. With a sigh, he let go of her. She dropped back down on the bed, petrified. He turned, bringing the knife with him, back to the dresser where his clothes were carefully placed on top. He put the knife down and started getting dressed again. Ravarin could do nothing but watch. The consequences of Father Brennan’s wrath raced through her mind, but she was in no way prepared for what was about to come.

“Please come with me, dear,” Father Brennan said, tucking the knife inside a piece of cloth. Ravarin managed to stand up, her legs shaking. He led her back through the abbey, back outside. Through the gates of the barracks and into the basement. She had never been down there before, nor had she ever wished to find herself there. And it was with good reason.

Soon she found herself strapped to a table, unable to move her hands or legs. They had even lodged her head in between two metal plates by her temples. A hooded figure was standing next to her, impatiently waiting for Father Brennan to unwrap the cloth and hand the hooded man the knife. While all she could see through the hood, was the eyes, she could tell the man was grinning.

She could feel the cold metal of the knife glide against her right cheek, then her left. Father Brennan was standing by her feet, giving her a stern look. The knife kept alternating between each side of her face, until suddenly there was a sharp pain in her right cheek, as the metal cut through her skin.

She screamed. She looked up at Father Brennan with pleading eyes. Looking up at his indifferent face.

The metal pierced her skin again. And again. In sharp, straight lines. Another two times, then it stopped. She kept screaming. Tears rolled down from her eyes, into her blonde hair. Father Brennan smiled and once again she could feel the cold metal press against her face. Slowly the blade crept towards the corner of her mouth.

Father Brennan’s smile widened. As did Ravarin’s, as the knife started cutting through her cheek, further expanding the orifice. The agonising pain was only heightened by Father Brennan’s amusement. It was almost a relief when his face started fading away and darkness surrounded her.

*

She gently caressed the big scar on her right cheek, forever a reminder of the gaping maw that was once there. The stitches had only been ripped out a few days ago, before she finally got to see daylight again.

Daylight… It was not the blessing she had hoped for. Quite the opposite in fact. The people around her, the people she once loved and cared for, who once loved and cared for her, wanted nothing to do with her. She was marked. Marked as a heretic. She had no future there anymore. Slowly she made her way westwards, through the plagued woodland.

She had nearly reached the remains of Corin’s Crossing when she saw it. A figure, dark as the night, yet nearly invisible. It floated eerily past the trees, heading towards her. It had no legs, just a head, torso, arms and what almost looks like a tail underneath that. It was merely watching her, likely trying to determine whether or not she was a threat. She maintained eye contact with the being, while walking closer to the once bustling outpost, hoping it would understand. A robed woman was waiting for her in the outskirts of the village. She held her arms out in a welcoming manner.

“Come closer, child. Come closer. Welcome.” Ravarin embraced the stranger. The warmth of her body was strangely soothing, yet repulsive. “There, child. There… Soon it will be over. Soon it will all be over. Don’t you worry. Soon you will find a new purpose in undeath. Soon you will serve the Lich King.”


End file.
